Dirty Dirty Blonde
by Stessa
Summary: Spashley: She met her for the first time when she was at her worst, yet everything still turned out to be the best.


**Dirty Dirty Blonde **

A_ South of Nowhere _oneshot

written by _**Stessa**_

-

You meet her for the first time when you're at your worst.

You've had a horrible morning, you've fought with your mother about something silly, your favourite skirt wasn't clean to wear and your hair just didn't want to do like you wanted it to. You didn't have time for any sort of breakfast because you were late as usual, and you had to stop for a take-away black coffee and almost couldn't get your car to start again. Mr. Hanson ordered you to study hall for two hours after your last class, and everything just didn't go your way.

So it was pretty clear to everyone that you weren't having a very good day and most students knew to stay clear of you. Actually, they pretty much stayed clear of you all the time. _Period_. But you've never minded that much, you've only minded yourself and a few selected ones.

And it's pretty clear to you when you first lay eyes upon her that she's going to be one of them – the few selected ones. You're not handling your books very well, and your locker is a pain in the butt, and juggling with your coffee, she sees you for the first time and 'accidentally' spills it all over you. (You still tease her about it to this day, claiming that it was _so_ not an accident). You're rude to her, of course, because that's who you are, but the second your eyes lock with hers and she leaves with a huff, you regret it because those were the most mesmerising blue eyes you've seen in a very long time.

You turn to look at her, and the way her blonde hair falls down her back in the faint sunlight, strikes you to the ground and you know you have to see her again. You fight the urge to run after her at that moment so you can comb your fingers through those soft cascades, and decide that it's much safer to approach her later, no matter where, so she can see that you're not really a horrid bitch.

You've got it for the new girl – bad – and you've only just seen her. It's one of those defining moments that you read about in corny poems and lyrics and awful teen novels, those moments you never thought could occur in real life, but apparently they can, because you're pretty sure you just had one. You would never write any lyrics about this yourself, at least not in the sort-of corny way that those teen pop sensations do, but you have a feeling that your guitar will be the first thing you grab when you get into your bedroom at home.

She turns a corner and you know that it's foolish of you, but you know that your heart just went with her – somehow. Turning to close your locker, you know you'll have to find out where to find her after school so you can sneak out of study hall to talk to her.

-

You know it's wrong to feel the way you do, but you just can't help it.

Are you gay or you straight? Are you all of the above? You're confused and you know that she can see it in your eyes. You told her you like girls, but you're still not completely certain. You _know_ that she wants more, but you feel guilty every time you look into your mother's eyes because you know what she'd do to you if she knew.

But you cannot help yourself; had it not been her, it would have been someone else. You're glad it's her, though, because she's so kind to you and she's this amazing person who're just waiting to explore the world with you. She might be a bit questionable and confusing at times, but you're sure you want it to be her. She's beautiful and talented and it's everything you could ever ask for, at least at the moment.

So how do you go about it? How do you tell her that you want to be more than friends? You know she's not going to shoot you down, because you're certain she likes you as well, but it's still the matter of getting the words across your lips. And it's hard, and it tares you apart, and you really don't know what to do.

So you take the easy way out; it's night, it's starry and it feels absolutely right to go to her place and just... be there. You're you and she's her, and it seems to be the way it's supposed to be. At least for now it does.

-

You can't seem to understand how you ever became to be this happy.

It's like everywhere you go, happiness goes with you, and it's because she's almost a part of you. You love the way her hand fits so perfectly in yours and it's practically already forever. At least that's what you hope for it to be, for after break-ups and make-ups, you just want her; you want to be her first _and_ her forever.

So you're happy when she decides to come live with you. When your sister leaves with her possible-boyfriend, it's just the two of you in a huge apartment, and you have to share everything again, but you don't mind, because you'd do everything for her. You're willing to work a little and let her study so she can reach her dreams, and when you don't work, you do the shopping so she doesn't have to stress while she's in classes. It's not quite the life you imagined to have, but you're sure that you'll get your dreams too, once she's done, you can do your thing, but right now it's about her, _for once_.

-

You can't hold back your tears when she decides to stay with you.

For a moment there, you were almost certain that she was going to leave, because she had packed a suitcase and her guitar was tuned and her passport was lying on the kitchen table, and Ethan was ready to fly her off to Europe so her career could get a kick-start.

You really thought that she was going to leave you there, in a huge apartment, too big for one, with bills and payments to pay and no one to share it with. You thought that she was going to find some blonde bimbo with huge breasts and that would be the end of the two of you, so when she, one evening, suddenly starts unpacking her suitcase while you're lying in your king sized bed flipping through the channels on your plasma TV, you almost can't believe your own eyes.

"I'm staying." she says, and you turn off the TV and crawl across the silky sheets.

You grab her hand as she's passing by to put a stack of clean shirts into the closet you share, and she pauses and turns to look at you. "I don't want you to stay just because you feel like you have to." you whisper, even if it kills you to say it aloud, because you want to be selfish and keep her there so you can work it out, whatever it is that's not OK between you.

She gets that amazing smile on her face; the loving, warm smile that reach all the way into her eyes and makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, and she says to you, "I don't feel like I have to. I want to, because I know for sure that I can't function properly without you."

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and you just gaze at her, can't believe that you're lucky enough to actually have someone who cares so much about you, who loves you just for you. So you pull her closer to you, and soon enough you're locked in a tight embrace, kissing each other like you haven't kissed in a while, and it feels good, because you actually missed her.

And then you're wondering if life can get any better, and you're pretty sure it can't.

-

The song you wrote for her is playing on repeat in your stereo.

It's your own version of it, the one you recorded for her 18th birthday, and not the stupid upbeat one that Madison hit the charts with. It's nice and comfortable, and you know that she can never get enough of it, that she can listen to it always because it reminds her of how it used to be, and how it's still so good now.

You hug her closer as you sway to to soft rhythm of the music, and it's perfect because Clay is with his grandparents and you're all alone in your perfect little house that's the centre of the perfect little world you've created together. You can feel her hands on your belly, and you smile because in about five more months, it's going to be even more perfect.

You wipe away a piece of the blonde hair that you've always loved so much, and she leans in closer, softly whispering with her rosy lips against your sensitive earlobe.

You can't help but smile at the words she's saying, and your fingers dig into her waist as you take a good hold of her, "Spencer Carlin, you've got such a dirty mind." you whisper, just like you've done before, because she's yours and you know that you can, and that she'll just smile that little sneaky smile of hers that usually follow her dirty thoughts.

Her lips caresses yours for a second, before she turns around and seductively saunters towards your bedroom, leaving you hanging like she usually likes to do.

And the last thing your eyes see before she turns the corner is that blonde hair of hers. It's long and silky, and it doesn't cover her naturally beautiful naked curves, but it's the thing you like the most about her.

It's the fact that it's just not blonde.

It's _dirty_ blonde.

Her head whips around the corner and she gives you a questionable look, "You coming, Ash?"

You giggle to yourself and rest your hand on your belly before you cross the room and put your arms around her, much like you should have done that day so many years ago when you first met her.

* * *

_I should probably stop writing these small drabble-things with Ashley, but I can't help myself. I've got a few more on my laptop that I haven't posted because they need editing, but this finally made the cut. I really hope you enjoyed it; it was nothing in particular, a little more of nothing that I usually like to do, but Spencer's hair was just too big an inspiration to let slide, even if it was kind of silly. _

_I hope you kind of liked it though. I've got a slight idea for something with maybe two or three chapters and I'll hopefully have time to write that too, but we'll see ;b Please leave me your thoughts about this fiction. _

_**Disclaimer; **I don't own South of Nowhere. _


End file.
